


Heart

by coaldustcanary



Series: Savior Fair [3]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Episode: s04e12 Heroes and Villains, F/M, Heart Removal & Control (Once Upon a Time), Mild Hurt/Comfort, Missing Scene, Prompt Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-03
Updated: 2016-08-03
Packaged: 2019-03-13 05:56:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,272
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13564284
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coaldustcanary/pseuds/coaldustcanary
Summary: Why didn't Emma put Killian's heart back in his chest until they were at Granny's?





	Heart

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted to AO3 2016-08-03 as part of a collection of shorter works, reposted as a one-shot work 2018-02-03. This was based on the [August 2016 OUAT Positivity Challenge](http://tlynnwords.tumblr.com/post/148107745380/once-upon-a-time-positivity-project-august-2016) Day 3 prompt, "Heart".

After Belle and Gold disappeared in a swirl of scarlet smoke, silence descended upon the clock tower for the space of several heartbeats.

(Emma was sure of that because she counted them off – one, two, three – in the pulsing glow of the heart that Hook clutched in his hand.)

Snow touched her arm, in comfort or warning or support, Emma wasn’t sure, but it was enough to break the second paralysis spell, this one born of shock. She vaulted up the steps to the topmost platform of the tower as Hook sagged back against the wall with closed eyes and a weary expression. Emma slowed and made the last few steps to close the distance between them carefully with raised hands as if approaching a wounded and skittish animal, unable to take her eyes off the heart he cradled shakily to his chest.

“Killian…” He swallowed visibly as she spoke. His answering smile was faint and more than half a pained grimace.

“Swan. ‘m sorry,” he muttered, extending his hand in a jerky, convulsive motion, proffering his heart to her without hesitation. Emma startled, nearly tripping over her own feet, before stepping closer, her hand tightly folding around his to arrest the motion. She pushed his hand gently back against his chest, pressing his heart back closer to where it rightly belonged. He managed another flicker of a smile, opening his eyes and looking down, and then out the tower window, but never coming close to meeting her gaze.

“Hey. It’s okay,” she said, trying to gentle the sharpness of her voice, lingering fear giving it a hard edge. Killian’s shoulders began to shake with stifled, mirthless laughter at her words. Emma sucked in a shuddering breath, her gut twisting uneasily. She clutched at his jacket collar with her free hand, then traced her fingers up and around the line of his jaw to cup his cheek with gentle pressure, searching out his gaze even as she held his head still. His skin was chilled, and she could feel his pulse racing under her touch – that of both hands - even as he kept his eyes averted from her own.

(How can your pulse exist, let alone race, when your heart beat outside your chest? Another question for the ages, and another reason this magic stuff was serious  _bullshit_  sometimes.)

“It’s okay,” she said again. Saying it could make it true, perhaps. Killian met her eyes, finally, either unwilling or unable to resist her searching look, and her breath caught in her throat to see his unfocused gaze sharpen with a steady, awed adoration. Emma lightly traced her thumb along his cheek even as he managed a few raspy, barely-audible chuckles and flashed her a third attempt at a wan smile. He kept trying to conjure a reassuring expression, but he couldn’t seem to make one stick, and seeing each attempt fade from his features chilled her. No matter the situation before, he’d always managed to put on a brave face, especially for her, and though it was occasionally frustrating, the fact that it seemed to keep slipping from his grasp now was unnerving.

“Aye, so it is, now.” Emma’s fingers stilled against his cheek and she opened her mouth to question him further because it obviously  _wasn’t_  true when he said it like that, not entirely. But before she could speak Killian straightened suddenly, delicately capturing her wrist in the curve of his hook and holding her arm still as he pressed his heart firmly into her hand.

“Please.” His voice cracked a little on the single word even as Emma curled her fingers around the solid warmth of his heart. Killian wrapped his fingers around her own and pushed her hand and his heart toward her chest, mirroring her own earlier gesture even as his shoulders sagged with a sort of exhausted relief when she accepted the burden. He gulped in a few ragged breaths that sounded so painful her own chest ached with renewed sympathy. Emma slid her free hand from Killian’s cheek down to his chest and pushed his jacket open, pressing her lips together in a thin line as she eyed his heaving chest with uncertainty. Grimly determined, she sought out the glow of her magic, focusing it fitfully in her hand so that she might press his heart back through flesh and bone to its rightful place.

“Alright, let’s put this back where it belongs,” she said, her tone deliberately light, trying to gently extricate her hand from his grip. He flinched, shaking his head, and only tightened his already white-knuckle grip on her hand, keeping his heart pinned against her.

“Swan. Wait.” Killian swayed into her, dropping his head nearly to her shoulder. Emma reflexively grabbed a handful of his shirt with her free hand and braced herself to take his weight, not at all certain his knees weren’t about to buckle. It was a terrible sort of parody of the way he usually leaned into her personal space, leading with his hips and wearing a knowing smirk. This time, he wavered on his feet, and Emma felt his hand shaking around her own.

It had felt much the same not long ago at Granny’s, when he’d gripped her wrist tightly, fine tremors vibrating through her arm from his, and Emma’s stomach lurched at the memory and the realization of what it meant.

“How long?” Emma demanded, her voice brittle and angry to her own ears as she counted back hours and days that had begun to blur together under the threat of the Snow Queen’s curse. Her magic pulsed and sparked with cold fury in her hand, flaring bright around his heart, and Killian gasped sharply, head jerking up as if she’d doused him with icy water. Unable to draw steady breath, he nonetheless struggled to reply to her desperate question, unable to resist responding to the force of her entirely unintentional compulsion, choking out a few unintelligible syllables before Emma realized what she’d done. Cursing, Emma released her magic and it drained from her all in a rush.

“Sorry, I’m sorry,” she whispered, wincing, though Killian’s grip on her hand didn’t ease even as he let out a rasping breath that ended on a faint chuckle.

“’salright, love,” he murmured, head fallen forward enough again so that his nose nearly brushed her ear while they swayed together like a pair of drunks at the end of a long night. “You can do as you like with it, always. Only not right here, just now, aye?” His whisper was hoarse and hesitant, but with a hint of a desperate plea about it. Emma looked around her at the dim and dirty tower, then down at her mother. Snow gazed up at them both intently, worry clear in her face, but Emma looked away from the empathy in her eyes, not yet ready to accept understanding from either of them.

“Okay. Let’s get out of here. But you should take this,” she said quietly, not quite begging. She felt Killian shake his head fractionally in the movement of her hair, his breath warm against her neck as he reluctantly straightened and stepped back, finally releasing her hand. Emma worked her own fingers free of his shirt and wrapped a second hand around his heart, still cradled against her chest. He smiled, and though it was faint, it managed to linger around the corner of his mouth longer than the last ones, as he gestured for her to precede him down the stairs with a hint of his usual flourish.

“I’d rather trust it with you, love.”


End file.
